


Do Not Go Gentle…

by Madame de flammes (owlaholic68)



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Begging, Bondage, Breathplay, Consensual Kink, Crying, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Consent, Explicit Language, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Spanking, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 03:40:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17675777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlaholic68/pseuds/Madame%20de%20flammes
Summary: Artagan gets bored and curious. Vax learns some fun and interesting things about himself.





	Do Not Go Gentle…

Technically, nobody should have been able to reach Vax except the Raven Queen, perhaps. But somehow, because Artagan is Artagan, he managed to slip into this extradimensional space.

A hand grabs Vax’s and tucks it into a warm elbow. Contrary to the attitude of the simple gesture, Vax startles and shrieks so loudly his ears ring in the echoing nothingness of this space. He whirls and tears his hand free, surprised to find himself not alone and indignant at being startled and mighty embarrassed because what if this is the Raven Queen herself just dropping in for a chat-

But of course it’s not her, because Vax would _know_ and he wouldn’t have yowled like a cat dunked in water. But the sight before him makes him want to scream for another reason: frustration.

“Sorry, dear.” Artagan manages to inject the maximum amount of smugness into his “apology”. The elven-looking archfey’s hair is softly floating in a frizzy coiled halo around him. His amused eyes glint in the greyish ethereal light.

“What the _fuck?”_

Artagan pouts. “Aren’t you happy to see me, Vax? After all that’s happened and saving the world and all that, don’t you want to catch up with an old friend?”

“I would, if I considered you a friend.” Vax compounds the rudeness by crossing his arms and glaring. “Really, Artagan, what in the actual hell are you doing here? How did you get here?”

“Oh, I have my ways. Now if you don’t consider me a friend, dearest Vaxil’dan, what am I to you?”

“A manipulative as fuck archfey that can’t be trusted. Kind of a creepy stalker who likes to hang out as a satyr. And, oh yeah, a dude who enjoyed _strangling me to death._ Does that about cover it?”

Instead of dampening Artagan’s spirits, Vax’s hissed words only make him smile even wider. “Oh, but you didn’t enjoy that too?”

“No,” Vax sputters, ashamed to say he’d been caught off guard with this absurd line of questioning. “No, why would I-”

In the silence, Vax’s loud swallow booms in his own burning ears. Artagan’s slender-fingered hand is warm where it is gently resting on the curve of his throat. No pressure, no danger, just the suggestion. Artagan slides his thumb so it’s resting under Vax’s jaw, his snowballing heartrate pulsing under the touch.

Funny how this could make something as natural as breathing suddenly so uncomfortable. Vax tries to lower his eyes, unexpectedly vulnerable. But Artagan moves his other hand and tangles it into Vax’s hair. Hesitant, giving him a moment to duck out of the grasp like he knows Vax is capable of doing.

But the problem is, Vax doesn’t _want_ to. Would he have considered himself touch-starved before this? No, not really – the only people graced with his physical affections had been his sister and occasionally others, Keyleth or Gilmore. The other members of Vox Machina from time to time. But now, leaning instinctively into the soft touch of someone Vax wouldn’t ever deign to like, maybe he has to admit defeat. He has missed this, the human interaction (or archfey in this case), the tension.

Artagan uses his grasp to tilt Vax’s head up so their eyes meet. He lazily smiles and rubs his thumb on a spot under Vax’s jawbone that makes him shiver.

“What do you want.” Speaking is a little strange when every movement of his voicebox feels amplified and constricted at the same time. Vax musters a suspicious glare. Artagan always _wants_ something.

“Truth to be told, I’m lonely.” Artagan sighs. “Of course, I could go anywhere I want and get anyone I want, but where’s the fun in that?”

“So you track me down to torment me instead.”

Artagan throws his head back and laughs. “Oh, Vax – may I call you Vax? It was the challenge, to be honest. Could I find you, could I manage to get my way over to you, could I do it without you immediately stabbing me to death – very pleasantly surprised on that last one, by the way – and now that I’m here, I thought I’d indulge in a curiosity. If you would begrudge me a question?”

At Vax’s reluctant nod (Artagan, curious? _No way…)_ Artagan cocks his head to the side and steps closer so he’s towering a full six inches above him.

“You seek out gentle lovers.” This is not the question, but Vax nods anyways. Artagan’s loose hands allow him that much movement, at least. Based on his history of bedmates, this statement is not untrue. “Partners who will caress you and embrace you and whisper sweet things in soft voices. Those who will be careful with you, with their delicate little Vax, their shadowy bird gone in the night.”

“And?”

“I wonder if you would consider the opposite.”

The noise Artagan draws out of Vax with a sudden sharp yank of his hair makes bathing in a freezing pool of blood sound like a wonderful idea right now. It’s sinfully responsive. Vax tries to jerk his head back down but the grip in his hair is now too tight. Artagan’s sharp nails in his scalp drag a wince onto his face.

“What are you suggesting?” Vax grits, breaths stuttering under the uncharacteristically intense stare levelled at him. Damn it, but Vax isn’t in the habit of lying, least of all to himself. This _is_ doing something to him, and there’s a treacherous corner of his mind that urges him to encourage this interaction.

“I am suggesting a diversion. Oh, but let me be clear for once, in the interest of not waylaying you.” Artagan taps his index finger against Vax’s pale throat. “I would like to hurt you in a sexual way. There will be pleasure involved, of course, I’m not a _monster,_ but mostly I want to let you experience something new. Something different. If you agree, of course, and you can stop anytime for any reason.”

An unfortunately straightforward and enticing possibility. “And what do you get out of this?” Vax challenges. “Like you said, you could go and have anybody you wanted, with your charm.”

“But where’s the fun in that? With you I have to work for it. And you’re so finicky, it’ll be an exciting challenge to figure out what you like and what you don’t. So, what do you say, Vax?”

The _one_ time Artagan decides to be straightforward about something, and it’s _this._ Vax closes his eyes and collects himself. He thinks. Then he thinks some more. He opens his eyes but decides that it’s too intimate, because Artagan is looking at him like he’s undressing him in his mind. Eyes closed again.

“Fine. Yes.”

“That didn’t sound very enthusiastic. I don’t want you to regret this later, I’d rather not get on the bad side of a powerful goddess’ champion-”

“I’m sure.” Vax takes a deep breath and locks down his decision. Opens his eyes. “I’m certain.”

Artagan grins with a few too many teeth. “Excellent. Can I talk this time?”

Vax rolls his eyes. “Yes, you can talk. But don’t kill me.”

“No killing. Safeword?”

“Jenga.”

“Ah, a classic.”

“Can you just get the fuck on with it?” Vax snaps. You can’t just offer something and then take five minutes to finalize the act!

“If you insist. Can you materialize a bed or something, or – or perhaps a table?”

Vax is halfway through forming a bed from the ether when the table is suggested. “A – a table?” He squeaks. “Why? Why is a bed too goddamn vanilla for you?”

Artagan suddenly has a length of rope slung over his shoulder. “Well, I thought I might tie you up, if you agree. A table might be easier for that.”

The hand in his hair tightens. Vax shivers and makes a table and an armful of cushions. This is technically a demiplane annex where he can create any objects he desires.

“Well, then.” Artagan retracts both of his hands and pushes Vax towards the table. “Clothes off.”

“Just like that?” Vax goes to turn but finds himself blocked in trapped against the table. “No preamble? You just want me to strip for your fucking amusement?”

“Of course not.” Artagan yanks Vax’s cloak off. “I expect you to not make it so easy for me. You’ve got some fight in you, I think. Struggle. Resist me, if you can.”

The pandering challenge in his voice inspires Vax to throw back an elbow. Artagan laughs and takes advantage of his momentum to whirl Vax around and pin him to the surface of the table. He wrenches Vax’s hands above his head and ties his wrists together, though not without taking a few knees to the stomach for his trouble. Wrists get secured to a metal loop at the end of the table.

Vax squirms and writhes, but damn, those ropes are _tight._ Not enough to actually cause damage, but twisting his hands makes the rope dig in and burn against his skin. He tries to kick Artagan as he takes off Vax’s armor and throws it to the side. One of Vax’s own daggers makes quick work of his shirt.

“You’ve got a little bit of life in you yet,” Artagan gasps, narrowly avoiding a kick from Vax’s boots. Those boots are soon out of the picture and his ankles bound together. The same dagger slices through Vax’s pants, and this time he _doesn’t_ struggle and instead holds very still.

Artagan, maddeningly, is still fully dressed. He leans over Vax and wrenches his ankles up over his head in a position that would be impossible if Vax was a little less limber. Even still, when Artagan secures his feet to the same loop that holds his wrists, Vax’s legs burn and shake.

Spread open like this in a weird reverse hog tie, Vax’s thighs block some of his view of Artagan. He’s expecting what he’s used to: a gentle touch, maybe a teasing finger along his inner thigh. Or even a hand on his dick, because why the hell not?

What he’s not expecting is the stinging slap to his exposed backside.

“And that’s what I like to hear,” Artagan purrs, and spanks him again, harder.

Just for that, Vax resolves to stay as quiet as possible. His cheeks feel like they’re going to spontaneously combust like one of Percy’s experiments gone wrong, and he’s certain the flush from his face has migrated down his neck and chest. Curse his fair skin and reactive body.

If Artagan is disappointed by Vax’s newfound silence, he doesn’t mention it. He does start picking up the pace before abruptly stopping.

Vax can’t see him, so all he can do is hold his breath and wait. Five seconds go by, then ten. Twenty. Thirty. A whole minute. Vax starts shifting, shallow breaths the only noise in the space. Two minutes.

He frowns. “Hey-”

To say the sound Vax makes is a yelp would be a disservice to the word. It’s half-groan half-scream, with a breathy rattle that betrays his surprise and arousal. The ropes creak.

“What – what the fuck-” He cranes his head in time to see the long wicked cane snap against his ass again. “Artagan please-”He arches his back as much as he can in his position and whines. “Ow, what is that-” another hit on the other cheek. “Why-”

“Can’t shut up now?” Artagan challenges and hits him again. “Before you were all happy to hold out on me. I. Want. To. Hear. You. Vax.” Each word another punishing strike. The whistle of the cane makes it all worse because Vax tenses up and makes each hit hurt even more.

Artagan stops and in the abrupt quiet, Vax’s sniffle could be a dragon roaring by. He tries to blink his gooey tears back into his eyes. Humiliation and excitement dance together in the ballroom of the region just under his stomach.

“Oh, darling,” Artagan, now naked _somehow,_ stands at the end of the table. He trails one long fingernail down Vax’s thigh, lower and lower- “Too much, baby? Just say the word-”

“I’m _fine,”_ Vax replies. There’s a terrible waver in his voice because Artagan’s hand is changing from light and teasing to firm, stroking up and down his length. He _had_ promised some pleasure mixed in with the pain, after all.

“If you say so. Do you mind if I fuck you?” This abrupt question is accompanied with an equally unexpected slap to Vax’s burning skin.

Once he finds his breath again, Vax squeaks out a “be my guest.”

“Just like that?” Artagan starts slowly working him open with one finger. “Didn’t know you were such an easy slut, Vax.” Another hit, this time making Vax whine and twist his wrists. “Actually, never mind. I think I’d like to make you beg for it.”

Damn archfey and their tricks. Vax grits his teeth. On one hand, he’s getting _really_ tired of Artagan teasing him like this. Maddeningly slow hands, just the barest amount of pressure needed to keep him wanting more. On the other hand, _fuck him._

“Fuck you,” he retorts. “Maybe I should make _you_ beg for it.”

Artagan laughs in delighted peals, high and mocking. “Wow, _bad boy._ A little rebel, huh? We’ll see how long that lasts.”

It doesn’t last long. Vax starts caving when Artagan goes for his nipples with intense focus, letting his mouth do that work while his deft cruel hands roam and tease. Equal amounts of prickling pain and warm pleasure are distributed and held back and then given again all too soon, and Vax is starting to get dizzy from the tension and the waiting-

“Please-”

“Please what?” Artagan lazily kisses his way up Vax’s chest. His sharp fingernails dig into the soft backs of his thighs, leaving long scrapes of angry reddened skin in its wake.

“For fucks sake,” Vax holds back a gasp and turns it into a frustrated hiss, “just fuck me already or whatever. I don’t know how you didn’t get bored within a second of making me wait, you smug piece of shit.”

The look Artagan gives him makes Vax shiver, because it’s both good and bad? On one hand, Artagan looks very satisfied. But then he looks a little _too_ satisfied.

“Alright then, if you insist.” He pushes in slowly, careful but without any extensive preparation. Slow and steady, just an inch in and then a pause to let Vax adjust.

A _really_ long pause. Vax wiggles but doesn’t get far. He can’t see Artagan’s face but he knows the archfey is probably wearing the biggest shit-eating grin. Is it still a pause if it’s been a minute?

“More,” Vax snarls.

“Magic word?”

“More, _please.”_

“Okay,” Artagan chirps, and he gets an inch more. No more though.

Everything hurts and yet it feels so good and Vax has started to feel humiliatingly needy and like a weak cliché. His skin prickles and burns where the cane had hit and his nipples ache and all angles of his body point to the fact that he’s enjoying this and wants more. But he’s not someone who _begs._ And despite the fact that more tears are pooling in the corners of his eyes, he’s not someone known for crying all because some weirdo dude decided to tie him up and make him beg to be fucked.

“P-Please Artagan-” Another inch and Vax loses his breath to a keening groan. “Please-”

“I want you to repeat after me, Vax.” Archfey are dangerous, and how often Vax has forgotten this. But this low commanding tone of voice reminds him all too well. “I want you to say: Please fuck me properly, Artagan. Please put your dick inside me and punish me for being such a naughty boy.”

Vax grits his teeth and glares through the curtain of his own hair that’s drifted across his face. “No, fuck you-”

It’s probably for the best that nobody’s around to hear the honest-to-goodness scream Artagan rips out of Vax’s throat. _Ow,_ who knew that fingernails could do that?

“Second chance, Vax.”

“No-”

Retaliation this time comes in the form of Artagan pulling out all the way. “Fine, then-”

That does the trick. “Please, Artagan-”

He leans in close over Vax. “Ah, what was that? Did I hear something along the lines of, Please fuck me properly, Artagan? Was that what I heard?”

“Please fuck me properly, Artagan.” Vax shivers. Somehow, name usage seems too intimate right now.

“Please put your dick inside me and punish me for being such a naughty boy.”

“P-Please put your – your dick inside me,” Vax has to pause to sniffle, “a-and punish me for being such a naughty boy.”

True to his word (his shifty fey word), Artagan slowly goes back in to where he was before. But still not all the way, _goddamn_ this slippery fucker’s deals.

“Okay, now: apologize for being so stubborn.”

“I’m sorry for being a stubborn prick.”

“Good, that’s getting better.” Artagan starts sliding in and out, shallow thrusts that do _nothing._

He grabs Vax’s hips and slides him forward, increasing the strain on his already aching legs and arms. This new angle makes every lackluster in-and-out hit _almost_ the right spot. But not quite.

This time he needs no prompting. “Please, Artagan, go faster, please – deeper-”

“Alright. Beg me to hit you again.”

Vax hesitates. “Uh, hit – hit me again.”

“No. Try again.”

“I want you to hit me again.”

“Nope.”

“I really want you to spank me again, Artagan.”

“Pathetic. Unimaginative. Again.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“Somehow worse. Try again, and this’ll be your last chance.”

 _Or what,_ Vax wants to ask, but thinks better of it. He swallows a tongueful of curses and insults. _You don’t have the gift of the silver tongue,_ Sylas Briarwood had said one time. Well, Sylas can go fuck himself, because Vax can speak eloquently when he really wants to.

“Please spank me again, Artagan. Thank you for hitting my ass so hard that I cry and _please_ hit me harder so it leaves a mark that will remind me of how bad I’ve been.”

A positively fiendish grin grows on Artagan’s face. “Well, when you ask so nicely…”

He speeds up his thrusts and increases power so it’s not quite so teasing. Vax makes the unusually forward-thinking decision that he would like this trend to continue, thank you very much.

“Again, please.”

Artagan hits him again. “Wonderful, baby! I think you’re getting the hang of it now! Again?”

“Thank you. Y-Yes please.” It feels kind of good, cathartic, to be crying this hard. It also feels embarrassingly _good_ in other places in his body.

What Artagan is doing now could be reasonably considered _fucking._ He drags Vax even further forward until his legs are extended almost straight above his head. He seems affected now, breathing heavily. His sharp eyes are muddled and his hair tangled in a careless disarray. He groans on a particularly rough thrust and bends over Vax to rest one hand on his pale collarbone.

“You’re so good,” he breathes, speeding up in time with his panting breaths. “Hope you know that, Vax dear. I’ve always enjoyed a good challenge, and you’re the best one so far…”

His hand moves to Vax’s throat and squeezes. A quick second and then he releases his grip. The message is clear: he’s not going to go all the way like last time. Vax manages a nod, though half of the movement is just him throwing his head back because Artagan’s not even directly touching him and yet he’s ready to fucking let loose.

“Good boy.” Artagan squeezes and Vax’s world narrows to the feeling of that familiar hand around his throat and the warm body on and inside his own and-

It’s a special kind of magic that cosmically aligns their orgasms. Artagan’s tastefully quiet and elegant, Vax’s painful and desperate.

“There, there,” Artagan pulls out and releases the ropes. He rubs feeling into Vax’s bruised ankles and wrists, uses his soft warm hands to massage tender spots. Wipes Vax’s tear-stained cheek with his knuckles.

It’s minutes later when Vax returns to the real world, or least as real of a world that they’re in right now. He stretches and groans. Everything aches and the far-flung fantasy of moving without pain seems impossible right now. Hey, at least he’s not dead this time.

He clears his raw throat and his voice still comes out soft. “Thanks, Artagan, I guess. That was different.”

“Glad to hear.” With a quick flick of his finger, Artagan set Vax’s disastrous hair to rights. “I’m glad I didn’t somehow accidentally kill you. It’s always a risk with mortals, but I figured I’d be safe enough with you.” He claps his hands and helps Vax sit up on the table. “Well, now that we’re done here, I’d best be off! Things to do, people to do, you know how it is!” He whirls and clothing materializes out of the ether to swirl around his body.

“Wait!” Vax jumps from the table and nearly stumbles. _Ow._ “You’re leaving just like that?”

He didn’t think was a particularly surprising thing to say, but Artagan clearly thinks otherwise. One curious eyebrow raises. “Pardon me, but I wasn’t under the impression that this was anything but a casual _thing,_ as you kids are fond of saying.”

“No, no, it is,” Vax waves his hands defensively. “It’s just, I don’t know, it seems weird to just part like this out of nowhere.”

“Aw, don’t miss me too much-”

“I really wont-”

“But you always know where to find me. And I can reasonably find you again. Not goodbye, dear Vax, but until next time.”

“Fine.” Vax crosses his arms over his bare chest. “Until next time, then.”

Artagan wiggles his fingers in a wave and disappears with a twirl.

“Wait, no fuck, there’ll be no next time, what the hell am I saying?” Vax grumbles to himself, but Artagan doesn’t come back. “And the motherfucker left me naked, aren’t the archfey supposed to be polite?”

**Author's Note:**

> *banging pots and pans together* THIS IS HELL THIS IS HELL
> 
> No for real, this is probably the top ship I hate to love and love to hate. Also, people always write Vax as super hardcore and like, always experimenting with S&M stuff, but let's be real: in his two main ships (Keyleth and Gilmore), would either of them ever be interested in something like that? I'm pretty sure Gilmore would cry if he accidentally gave Vax a papercut during sex.
> 
> *the light slowly fades from my eyes as I add tags for this fic* I guess I'm contractually obligated to include Breathplay, huh?


End file.
